


Job First Love Second

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Almost Angst?, Dedication to Duty, Gun Violence, M/M, non-graphic injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: There are times in his job when Percival has to put duty above love. Necessity doesn't make it any easier though.





	Job First Love Second

It wasn’t unusual for there to be heated discussions and occasionally even raised voices in meetings with Picquery. Newt was once again toe to toe with her, growling about the rights of creatures. It was an almost well-rehearsed argument, one that had to be performed in the public eye to gain favour for the motion Newt was arguing. No matter how much they’d gone over it in private already, how much Percival had seen them clash and the aurors too had heard at least some of it, it was no less tense. Picquery needed to show that she wasn’t just being steamrolled over by a foreigner, that she was considering her country first and foremost.

“So you’re telling that a creature who has shown considerable intelligence and ability to learn and assist wizards is just a commodity and potion ingredient?” Newt’s voice was loud and firm in a sharp contrast to his usual mannerisms. He stood tall, stalking the room when he spoke, occasionally stopping in from of Picquery to address a question to her.

“All your evidence is based on hearsay, out of context incidents with no hard proof Mr. Scamander. Unless you have something better to challenge our laws with I suggest you leave.” She gave as good as she got.

“I have evidence.” Newt’s smile was threatening as he moved. Shouts went up as he lunged across the space between them and pushed Picquery to the floor. Spells immediately thudded into his back with sharp cracks, the first of which thundered much louder than any other. Picquery fell on her back, headdress falling off behind her as she hit the floor. Newt was a stiff weight on her.

The aurors converged on them, wands out while Percival stepped over the two bodies on the floor with his wand out and pointing at someone at the back of the room. People watched in awe as he restrained and disarmed a low level worker.

“A muggle weapon?” Percival admired the gun floating in the air. “Clever. An assassination attempt on the president that wouldn’t link back to you. Book him. Gun goes in the evidence locker. You know the protocol people, move it!”

People jerked into motion, aurors cuffing the culprit while Percival walked back to where the President lay, some people were rolling Newt off her.

“You okay?” Percival asked her as she put the headdress back on and straightened her clothes. She frowned at the red stain on her arm.

“I’m good. Shaken, disgusted by all the blood but I’m good. Shit.” Picquery swore as she looked at her arm again. “Blood. Not mine. Not mine.” She hastily added and looked at Newt who was still restrained by a petrificus totalus. Percival crouched next to Newt and began unwinding the spells carefully. Nothing could be done for the bullet wound until those were lifted.

“Someone get a healer here. Quickly.” Percival barked when Newt stirred under his hand. He didn’t want to cuss out the aurors for the spells and curses they used but they seemed too violent and unnecessary for the situation. Once the last of the curses fell away he pushed down on the wound which drew a weak cry from Newt.

“I thought he was going to attack me.” Picquery admitted quietly as she stood helpless to the side. Someone had draped a coat over her to keep her shivers at bay. “Instead he took a bullet for me. How? His back was turned.”

“Go sit down Sera. Once the healers get here – and they’d better hurry – we’ll go over this.”

Soon Percival was being pushed out of the way as healers knelt by Newt, uncaring of the blood seeping into their clothes. Within minutes they were whisking him away and Percival let out a sigh.

“Let’s go debrief, get statements and sort this mess out.” He said and gestured for Picquery to leave with him. The blood on his hand glistened until he spelled it away and tried to remove it from his clothes quietly.

The incident was filed away, forms filled out, the culprit charged, evidence gathered and placed in folders. Picquery and Percival sat by his desk. There was no news of Newt but they weren’t expecting anything just yet.

“You okay?” Picquery asked when Percival buried his face in his hands.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Probably not.” Percival looked at her from between his fingers before lowering his hands and watched them as though he could still see the blood on them. “I had to ignore my husband being shot in favour of apprehending a criminal, corralling aurors to do their job rather than attack your protector and make sure you were okay before I could check if he was even breathing. How do you think I feel?”

“You did your job.” Picquery replied but her voice was full of understanding.

“I put my job above my husband. That’s what I did. And I did it without anyone realising all I wanted to do was protect him, everything else be damned.”

“You did your job.” She repeated. “Admirably.”

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore Sera.” Percival pushed away from the table and made to stand. Opposite him Picquery rose too, she didn’t say anything but simply nodded and let him go to the hospital.

Once there it only took a few minutes to find out where they were keeping Newt and Percival tried not to hurry through the corridors. He got to the door and took a moment to compose himself. A quick knock and he was letting himself in, not sure whether Newt was even awake to invite him in. The smile he was greeted with broke all his composure and Percival rushed to the bed to take the outstretched hand. He pressed a kiss to the knuckles as he sat down next to Newt.

“I’m so sorry.” He gulped back the tears that threatened to escape.

“We always knew the risks. Your first priority when at work always has been and always will be the President and her safety. I was okay with this when I married you.” Newt reassured him.

“I thought I was too. But I don’t think I actually am. I wanted to tear them all apart for throwing curses at you. For not allowing me to scoop you up and get you the medical care needed as soon as possible.”

Newt shushed him, cupping a cheek in his warm palm. Percival let himself be guided into a warm embrace. He could feel the bandages around Newt’s torso, felt the hitch of his breath when they moved in a way that hurt. The unshed tears burned his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered into the crook of Newt’s neck.

“I’m not. We’re okay ‘Val, we’re okay. You did your job, we averted a crisis.” They stayed like that a moment longer until Newt gently pushed him away. “Now, I believe you need a statement and an explanation of how I saw the reflection of the gun in the decorative pin of Picquery’s headdress.”

**Author's Note:**

> Got tumblr? Find me @ladyoftheshrimp


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